


'Til Sunrise Takes Us

by jillyfae



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet Collection, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Magic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Character study and ficlet collection.  Despite (or perhaps because of) the quite ridiculous premise, and the Apocalypse, and Death, <i>Sleepy Hollow</i> is, clearly, a story about second chances and hope, and finding Home. (Written during Season 1)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. obscenity

**Author's Note:**

> _  
> [Emily Dickinson](http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-learned-at-least-what-home-could-be/)  
>  _
>
>>   
>  I learned—at least—what Home could be—  
> How ignorant I had been  
> Of pretty ways of Covenant—  
> How awkward at the Hymn
>> 
>> Round our new Fireside—but for this—  
> This pattern—of the Way—  
> Whose Memory drowns me, like the Dip  
> Of a Celestial Sea—
>> 
>> What Mornings in our Garden—guessed—  
> What Bees—for us—to hum—  
> With only Birds to interrupt  
> The Ripple of our Theme—
>> 
>> And Task for Both—  
> When Play be done—  
> Your Problem—of the Brain—  
> And mine—some foolisher effect—  
> A Ruffle—or a Tune—
>> 
>> The Afternoons—Together spent—  
> And Twilight—in the Lanes—  
> Some ministry to poorer lives—  
> Seen poorest—thro' our gains—
>> 
>> And then Return—and Night—and Home—
>> 
>> And then away to You to pass—  
> A new—diviner—care—  
> Till Sunrise take us back to Scene—  
> Transmuted—Vivider—
>> 
>> This seems a Home—  
> And Home is not—  
> But what that Place could be—  
> Afflicts me—as a Setting Sun—  
> Where Dawn—knows how to be— 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "grapholagnia: the urge to stare at obscene pictures" prompted by both [fragilespark](http://fragilespark.tumblr.com/) and [penthesilea1623](http://penthesilea1623.tumblr.com/) for a meme on tumblr. This isn't so much an _urge_ as an accident. 
> 
> (This was prompted, and written, before Ichabod discovered the internet in the show itself ... apparently it was a situation that was destined to happen to the poor man. )

_There were too many arms in this new picture, and however did that gentleman's hips bend that way, and that?_

_That was not a leg._

Crane pushed back from the desk hard enough his chair scraped against the floor, but that didn't actually make the picture go away.

"Crane?"  Miss Mills looked up from the book she'd been paging through, a tilt of her head and a lift of her brow and a tightening to her chin.  She somehow managed to look both amused and worried at the same time, an expression he'd gotten surprisingly fond of, if only because he seemed to inspire it in her quite frequently, and it was either find it endearing or spend all day grumbling about it.  "Are you alright?"

"Yes." His voice did not squeak. No. Of course not.  "Just fine."  He leaned forward, hand  trying to find the button she'd showed him, right beneath the green light, without actually looking at the screen overmuch, and ...  _yes, there,_ the picture glowed brighter for an instant before it disappeared, the screen gone black, and he sighed with relief.

Then he frowned.

Would it still be there when he pressed the button to turn the lights inside it back on again?  Or would he be back to the list of pages that Miss Mills had given him to look through, the blue underlined words connected to even more pages, and more of them, until he'd unexpectedly found the one with the  _very_ indecent people on it.

"Just fine involves jumping back from the computer like you think it's going to eat you?"

"It can do that?"

She lifted her eyebrows even higher, obviously aware he wasn't _that_ dense.

"Are the," he paused, hand waving in the general direction of the now quiet screen, " ... pictures on this real?"

"What do you mean?"  She stood up from her book and came closer, stopping just a few paces away to lean against the side of the desk holding what he was starting to consider might be an actual infernal contraption.

"The images, of people, are they, actual people? Do they know that they're in this ...  _web_ of yours, this library anyone can look at?"

She coughed, a sudden sharp sound, her hand covering her mouth, though it did nothing to hide the amusement in her eyes. "Found some porn, did you?"

He wasn't quite sure about that  _word,_ but judging by the dry lift of her voice, it presumably meant precisely what he thought it meant.

"Possibly?"

"Sexually explicit material?"

He found himself coughing at the matter of fact way she said it, which just made her eyes glint, and her smile widen.  "People have been having sex for a very long time, Crane.  Probably been looking at other people have sex for just as long.  You were married.  Pretty sure you know that?"

He was perilously afraid he was blushing, and it took a moment thinking about how his breath actually _worked_  before he managed words.  "Well, probably, yes, but."  He forced himself to swallow, to keep his voice steady.  "Do people no longer attempt some form of  _discretion_ about such things?" _  
_

"Some people do. Some people don't." She bit her lip, and he wasn't sure if she was trying to decide what to say next, or simply attempting not to laugh at him.

Either way, he was singularly grateful for the fact that she, at least, seemed willing to attempt some discretion, if only for his sake.  "And to answer your question, usually the people in such pictures know they're out there, yes.  Either they enjoy the idea of people watching, or they're trying to sell them for a little extra cash, or they're actually professionals who do that for a living."

She paused, and he was rather sure his face was doing something unfortunate, as he processed the idea of  _selling for a little extra,_ which was somehow worse than approaching it just as a job, but he wasn't quite sure why.  Not that he had any real idea how or why anyone would attempt that sort of thing for a career, but it seemed more ... honest?

But who was he to judge in either case?  The police had agreed to pay his stipend, so he did not have to worry about having enough to eat, and it was not as if he'd dreamed about being a Witness when he was a lad avoiding his lessons.

"And, if they  _don't_ know the pictures are out there, or the people in them are underage," underage meant _children_ meant something he did not think he was up to knowing today, and he missed Katrina with a sudden sharp pang worse than the usual ache beneath his breastbone, and he wanted a life with ink and pens and paper and possibly even demons masquerading as his officers because there were not these computers and images and monsters he did not understand hiding behind every brick and stone, "then that is illegal and we try to put a stop to it." _  
_

He swallowed, and nodded, and the glint in her eyes softened.  "I'll show you how to set up the computer so you can avoid them in the future.  I would have warned you, if I'd realized safe search was off."

"Safe search?" His voice felt softer than usual, and her smile was crooked, but the rhythm was back, questions and answers shared between them.

"Most people don't want to see porn when they're looking something else up, but that doesn't stop other people from ... adding it to the library?"

She stood up straight and lifted her head, her chin pointing at his monitor.

"Turn it back on, Crane.  Time for another lesson on modern technology."

He sighed, and sat, and attempted to remember how to smile, for her sake.  At least this new life of his was never boring?


	2. Brontide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _the sound of distant thunder_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by [genginger](http://genginger.tumblr.com/), this is a piece from Katrina's POV, during the flashback at the end of 1.06: _The Sin Eater_.

She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for. The sky had gone dark; it was past time she should have shuttered the lamps and barred the door.

And yet.

She could feel the rumble of thunder, despite the lack of clouds, could taste lightning in the air despite the brightness of the stars.

They are coming.

It sounded almost like hoof-beats, though the livery stable was quite on the other side of town.

She had long learned to trust her senses, the things so few other people could see, or hear, the edges of magic beneath her skin. But this felt different, somehow.

Heavier, the air thick with it. Not just a black witch, or even a demon.

So she waited. For a hint, for a sign, for the storm to break.

Instead she saw Lieutenant Crane, the red against his shirt the stain of blood, his coat gone, his face terrible and pale. He could not stand, his voice shaken and almost broken, but as he fell against her the grip of his fingers was strong around her hand, and she knew the luxury of waiting was over.


	3. agelast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _a person who never laughs_
> 
> Ichabod and Jenny, prompted by [machakizi](http://machakizi.tumblr.com/)

"You seem quiet, Miss Mills.”

There was a pause before Jenny lifted her head, a sardonic twist to her mouth.  Not that her face had ever completely lost its sarcastic edge in his viewing, but this particular expression seemed more …  _overt._

"Oh, did you mean me?"  Yes, that was a little sharper than usual.  "Thought you were worried about Abbie."

Ichabod permitted himself a shrug, attempted and mostly failed to hold his hands still.  ”Lieutenant Mills has not returned yet.”

"Yes, of course."  Her mouth pursed, and her tone was still hard, but he thought he caught a glint of amusement.  "She’s not here at all, that explains it."

"Have I offended you somehow, Miss Mills?"

Too much white flashed through her eyes as she rolled them.  ”You are a little hard to take sometimes,  _Mister Crane.”_

"I … do not understand?"

"Clearly."  She sighed, short and heavy.  "Which isn’t really your fault, now is it?

"That is difficult to answer, without knowing what it is I am failing to understand, now isn’t it?"

"But if you knew, than you would understand, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all!"  She managed a smile, bright and patently false, before shaking her head.  "I am fine, I’ll probably continue to be quiet, you may stop worrying about it, and I can get back to my book now.  Deal?"

"As you wish."

It bothered him, however, the edge to her silences, so different than her sister’s.

***

Abbie shook her head, her fading laughter still lightening her eyes, before she waved Ichabod back towards his seat and turned to deal with her police colleagues on her own.

Miss Jenny had been silent throughout the entire exchange, and a glance at her once he was sitting showed her face completely still, not even the usual twist of semi-amused cynicism.

"You do not laugh as your sister does, do you?"

"Never seen you laugh either, british.  Just that ducked head and smile, sometimes, and only for Abbie."  Her lips twisted, and for the first time she looked almost cruel, as if the weight of her past was suddenly more than she could bear.  "Your wife know about that smile of yours?"

The barb took, a sharp jab somewhere behind his heart, but he made himself breathe ‘til it passed, and for once he felt his hands still, no fidgets or twists to give himself away.

He had thought he had known Katrina’s secrets, had thought he’d shared his own, only to realize they neither of them had ever been truly honest, been truly free.  He believed they’d truly loved, but he wasn’t sure that was enough, now, in this impossible future.

But none of that was Abbie’s fault.  Or Jenny’s.

"Have you never had a friend, Miss Mills?  Someone you could trust with your smiles?"

Her eyes blinked closed, and he could see the shift down her throat as she swallowed.  When they opened again her eyes were clear, her chin lifted as she stared at him, straight and steady.

_Oh, they have such bravery, these Mills sisters._

"Not so much."  The curve of her mouth was almost wistful, for just a moment, before it firmed again.  "Have to wait and see if it’s worth it, this time.  Don’t I?"

He nodded, slowly.  There was nothing he could say to that, no words that would prove he and her sister were worth a moment of her faith.  He hoped she’d find they were.


	4. courtesy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Baisemain_ , (a kiss on the hand), Ichabod and Abbie, requested by [cheesiestart](http://cheesiestart.tumblr.com)

Jenny just rolled her eyes, but Abbie felt her breath catch in her throat.

Crane was endlessly courteous, in an incredibly complicated sort of way,  _stupid brilliant man, of course he’s complicated,_  but for all she’d seen him bow, and offer his hand for hers, it had never been like this, never included the soft press of his lips against the skin beneath her knuckles, shockingly hot for just an instant before he lifted his mouth, just a breath above her hand, and she saw the glint of his gaze as he looked up at her through his lashes.

She knew, in that instant, the delicate balance of their friendship had changed, and he would never just be  _Crane_  again.

"Thank you, Ichabod," she whispered as he stood, unable to look away from the light in his eyes, or the hint of a hope curving his mouth into a smile.


	5. sweet kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got two separate Ichabod/Abbie prompts for a kiss meme on tumblr; I combined them both here.

_underwater kiss (for spark-of-jenius)_

The water is cold, her lips searing against his, and his chest burns but this,  _her,_ alive, her fingers gripping around his shoulders, the taste of her burning against him is more important than breath.

So he kisses her, eyes closed against the sting of dark water, ignores the shift of the current around them, until the ache in his lungs moves beyond burning, heavy and painful, and her fingers curl tighter, and her legs kick, and they lift each other up out of the water at last.

 

* * *

_kiss along the hips (for maybethings)_

She woke up laughing.

This, if anything, was proof that for all the impossibilities of Horsemen and Masons and demons, the past few years had been worth it.

His hair was a mess, half hiding his eyes, and she wasn’t sure if she was laughing more at his not-so-sudden apparent relation to a scarecrow or the light trail of his touch down her sides, his fidgety fingers put to good use as they tickled her ribs.

But then his hands stilled, palms flat against skin, and he ducked his head to kiss her shoulder, and she was gasping instead of laughing, and her spine curved to lift herself against his mouth as he moved down her chest, and stomach, and lingered along the line of her hips.

"Good morning, Lieutenant."

And she was laughing again, light and breathy, because only Ichabod would still entreat her with titles  _now._


End file.
